


No homo though, right?

by Midnight_Sunrise_63



Series: Aoba Johsai shenanigans [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: But they also trap Kyoutani and Yahaba in the storage room, Gay sparkles, M/M, because they are just bros!, no homo at all, there is no homo in this whatsoever, unexpected ending!, wait- no! It's not gay sparkles! Only hetero-sexual sparkles!, what are you talking about??? they're just bros!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29521374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnight_Sunrise_63/pseuds/Midnight_Sunrise_63
Summary: There is absolutely no homo in this whatsoever. Besides Kyoutani and Yahaba, but still! There's no homo! It's all very hetero-sexual!
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru
Series: Aoba Johsai shenanigans [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168430
Comments: 1
Kudos: 58





	No homo though, right?

**Author's Note:**

> This is about as hetero-sexual as you can get with Hanamaki and Matsukawa's relatioship. Very hetero because they are just bros.

Matsukawa leaned his elbow against the desk, craning his neck to see Hanamaki’s phone. “What’cha reading, Makki?”

The latter shoved Matsukawa’s face away, scowling. “You’re nosy.”

“Not as nosy as Oikawa.”

“Still nosy.”

“Only for you.”

“Dude,” Hanamaki turned around, cupping Matsukawa’s cheeks. “That’s gay.”

“No homo, though,” he shrugged. “Right?” 

He pressed his lips against Matsukawa’s own, kissing him deeply and carding his fingers through his hair. “No homo, my bro.”

They sat like that for the next five minutes, hands in the other’s hair, soft lips connected. Eventually, their knees knocked together and Hanamaki slid out of his own chair, taking his place on Matsukawa’s lap. He caressed his cheek, pulling apart just an inch.

They both broke into childish giggles. “No homo,” they whispered in unison. 

The door suddenly slid open and a very annoyed Iwaizumi stepped inside. “Makki, Mattsun, class ended like twenty minutes ago,” he raised an eyebrow. “Oh hell naw,” he immediately whipped around and slammed the classroom door shut. 

Hanamaki snuck off of Matsukawa’s lap, picking up his school bag and tapping his toes onto the ground, fixing his shoes nicely. “Should we head to practice now, Mattsun?”

“Sure,” he nodded, standing himself up. He adjusted his own bag, holding out his hand. “I love you, in the most hetero way.”

“Pfft, that’s a new one,” he gladly accepted the hand, but it threw out of his grasp and smacked his ass instead.

“Good game, bro,” he laughed.

“Good game,” Hanamaki kissed the taller’s cheek, then lightly slapped it. 

They walked down the hallway towards the gym, with Matsukawa’s hand still resting on the small of the shorter’s back. Hanamaki situated himself, firmly pressed into Matsukawa’s side. They passed by many students, who were still standing in clusters every so often. Each time someone began to stare, Matsukawa simply smirked at them, tightening his grip on the bottom of Hanamaki’s shirt, tucking and untucking it into his waistband every so often. 

They found the gym, sliding into the locker room. Hanamaki undid his tie, then pouted his lip just a tiny bit. He wrapped his tie around Matsukawa’s neck, yanking him down the two inches so he could look in directly into his eyes. “Hmm, I don’t know, Mattsun. I think I see some gay sparkles in your eyes. Do you mean it when you say ‘no homo’?”

“I may be a homo but you are a bro, and I am not homie sexual,” he raised his hands in surrender. “However, I also see some gay sparkle in those beautiful irises of yours.”

Hanamaki’s tie fell onto the ground. “How dare you stare into my eyes as I stare into yours.”

“I know, such a scandal I am,” he raised a hand, slowly unbuttoning Hanamaki’s shirt. “No homo, I promise.”

“No homo,” he did the same to Matsukawa.

“Oh my fucking god, just stop it already!” Yahaba screeched from his corner of the locker room. “We get it, you’re dating! Jesus!”

“No, my dear underclassman,” Hanamaki faced the brunette. “There is no homo in this relationship whatsoever.” 

“Now, you and Mad Dog-chan, on the other hand!” Matsukawa grinned. “You two have so much sexual tension you can’t even cut it with a knife.”

“A-” Yahaba glared at them. “What the hell?!”

“Don’t deny it, we all know you two have goo-goo eyes for each other,” Hanamaki rolled his own eyes, pulling off his shirt and replacing it with his practice attire. 

Yahaba slammed his locker shut, storming out of the room. The two third years exchanged glances, giggling evilly in their own personal universe. “Matchmaker time?”

“Of course, who do you take me for, a  _ normie _ ?!”

“Heaven forbid, a normie!”

“Haha, couldn’t be us!”

“Not us in the slightest!”

“Plan?”

“Hmm…” Hanamaki thought for a moment. “Ooh, accidentally getting locked in the storage room after practice!”

“Perfect! Let’s get Oikawa and Iwaizumi to give us the keys,” he finished changing like a bolt of lightning, and Hanamaki shoved his shorts on.

They scuttled out of the locker room, rushing to the other third years. “Yo, we were planning on doing some later practice. Mind if we take the keys? We’ll clean and lock up afterwards,” Matsukawa held onto Hanamaki’s sleeve with two fingers as he spoke. 

“Oh? Sure. Need a setter?” Oikawa hummed, plopping the keys into Matsukawa’s hand. 

“Nah, we’ll be good. We’re gonna work on serving and receiving,” he nudged Hanamaki’s arm.

“Also, Kyoutani and Yahaba are staying back as well,” Iwaizumi butted in.

_ Perfect, _ they thought, their grins only widening. “Alright.”

Oikawa raised an eyebrow, but waved his hand dismissively. He turned to the rest of the team, clapping his hands to gain their attention. “Time to stretch, gather around!” 

Matsukawa’s hands fell onto Hanamaki’s waist, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. They were huddled in the corner, peacefully overlooking Yahaba and Kyoutani’s practice. After each successful spike, Yahaba praised the mad dog.

Hanamaki nuzzled his face into Matsukawa’s neck, kissing it gently. “When should we?”

“Once they take the net down. Come along, let’s go practice our own serves, now.”

They practiced for about forty more minutes before Yahaba turned to Kyoutani, speaking words of praise but also exhaustion. The third years listened, and they began taking down their own net as well. Yahaba and Kyoutani were in the process of carrying their net to the storage room. Hanamaki slipped his shoes off, sliding on his socks towards them, and Matsukawa followed. They nodded to each other, then slammed the storage room shut, locking it quickly before the two second years could understand what was going on.

They burst into laughter, collapsing onto each other and tumbling to the floor. “C-come on, we gotta go, now!”

“Oh god, we’re so dead tomorrow!”

There came a banging on the storage room door as well as some angered yelling and many colorful threats. “Makki,” Matsukawa whispered, his hands sliding themselves up the shorter’s shirt. “How long should we keep them in there?”

“Hmm, let’s pretend to leave and see what they do,” he murmured, grinning. He stepped onto his toes, kissing Matsukawa lovingly. “Let’s go, yeah?”

“Mh-hm,” he swept Hanamaki’s legs over his arm, carrying him to the gym door, opening it and slamming it shut. “Now shh, be quiet,” he hushed, sliding themselves across the floor back towards the storage room. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Yahaba’s voice groaned, muffled.

Kyoutani grumbled something incoherent and leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “God, of course it had to be you.”

“Huh? What the hell does that mean?!” Yahaba demanded, stepping closer to Kyoutani.

“Why do I seriously have to be stuck in here with you?!” he shouted.

“It’s obvious that we’ve been locked in here on purpose. And now Makki and Mattsun just left!” he sighed angrily. “So don’t take this out on me.”

“Whatever,” Kyoutani pushed Yahaba away. 

“You’re seriously- you know what, fine! Stay on your side, I’ll stay on mine, and we’ll be perfectly fine!” he snapped, huffing and moving away to sit against a different wall. 

“Agh, darn,” Hanamaki muttered. 

“Only normies would give up so easily. And we are no normies,” he rubbed the back of Hanamaki’s head.

“Of course,” he agreed.

They shared a chaste kiss before turning back to listen to Kyoutani and Yahaba. There were many minutes of silence, then someone spoke up inside. “Do you hate me?” It was Yahaba.

“Yes.”

“Oh.” He scrunched his nose up. “I hate you too.”

“Hm,” Kyoutani hummed. “Good to know.” He stepped over to Yahaba, cupped his cheek and slammed their lips together. 

The brunette made an “eep!” noise in surprise, but melted into the kiss.

“Ooh, Mattsun, they’re going at it!” Hanamaki poked his cheek excitedly. “I just know it!”

The door suddenly fell open, making Kyoutani and Yahaba topple onto each other on the gym floor. Matsukawa burst into laughter. “I never locked the door!” he wheezed, snatching Hanamaki’s hands and pulling him up. “Oh god, we gotta go!”

Kyoutani sat on his knees, then raised himself onto his feet. Yahaba followed suit. “You’re. Both. Dead!” he screeched, chasing after them with Kyoutani hot on his heels.

“No no! Continue with your storage room make out session!” Hanamaki called to them, bolting into the locker room and locking the door. 

“SHUT THE HELL UP!”

“Hey,” Matsukawa began between heavy breaths. “Hey, Makki.”

“H-hm?” he sat on the floor, gazing up at the taller.

“I love you, in the most homosexual way,” he kneeled down, taking the shorter’s face into his hands, tilting his head up and kissing him.

“Thought you’d never admit it,” he breathed, grinning. “I love you too, with all the homo in my heart.”

**Author's Note:**

> Or are they just bros? Who's to say? 0-0'


End file.
